Autopilot
by Colleentj
Summary: Levinstar. "You and I are far too similar for our own good." Re-Uploaded.


Title: **Autopilot**  
Category: Ben 10  
Author: Colleen-TJ  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: T  
Genre: Sci-Fi/Angst  
Originally published: 08-20-12, Re-Uploaded: 10-10-12  
Words: 4,463  
Warnings: Crack pairing to the best of my ability.

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**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

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Autopilot

By ColleenTJ  
Dedicated to Sam and Molly for inspiring this pairing, even if it was (and it certainly was) completely by accident.

...

The elegant silhouette of the Rustbucket II stood out against the setting sun. The last of the daylight cast a halo around the spaceship's figure, making it seem more beautiful, more mysterious, than it actually was.

Kevin Levin finished examining it through the windshield and then killed the engine on the car. He opened the door and stepped out into the desert air, combing a sweaty palm through his thick black hair and exhaling.

"I see you've arrived."

Kevin glanced over towards the ship to catch sight of a lean man with perfectly styled blond hair striding in his direction. Mike Morningstar.

"How long have you been here?" asked Kevin, eyeing his ship for possible vandalism.

"A few minutes," Mike answered. He smirked at Kevin's expression. "Don't worry," he added, clearly amused. "I haven't tampered with anything."

"You'd better hope not," Kevin grumbled, approaching his ship and punching in a code to open the side door. He inhaled the familiar scent of the ship, appreciating the spacious interior and the window-lined walls.

_She's a beauty_, he thought, feeling an uncomfortable pang as he recalled some of his most pleasant years that had been spent on deck.

He glanced over his shoulder at Mike, who still hadn't boarded.

"Well? Get on, then," Kevin said. Mike ascended the loading ramp and entered the ship, the door shutting automatically behind him. He was dressed in his usual jumpsuit, his helmet propped ceremoniously under his elbow. He had no intentions of donning it today, as the last mission had permitted the return of Mike's handsome features.

As for Kevin—well, he was same old Kevin, 19 years old now and as rugged as ever. He took the pilot's seat and Mike took the seat beside it, folding his hands in contemplation.

"How was Europe?" asked Kevin as he prepared for takeoff, referring to a recent holiday Mike had taken.

"Green," Mike answered. "To be honest, I'm surprised you even remembered about that."

"How could I forget?" droned Kevin. "It was all you could talk about on our last mission."

"True," Mike answered. The engines roared as Kevin directed the ship down the homemade Arizona runway. Mike gripped the edges of his seat—flying always made him uncomfortable—and only calmed once the ship had successfully taken flight.

"So, what is it today?" Mike now asked.

"Um," said Kevin, hardly focusing on Mike and focusing more on the ship, "some goon on the black market. I think."

"I imagine you'd know a thing or two about that," Mike remarked with a smirk.

Kevin exhaled fiercely. "Don't joke about that."

"Your friends seem to take it quite lightly, though."

"We're not friends," Kevin reminded Mike. "We're only here because it was either Plumber's work or the Null Void for you after your last stunt. I'm here because nobody else in the Plumbers has kicked your ass eighty times."

"Seventy-six," Mike corrected diligently. "Besides, I thought you had chosen to be my monitor, anyway."

"I'm the only one strong enough to stop any of your antics," Kevin said. "It _had _to be me."

"Tennyson could have done it," Mike said. He added, quietly, "You had a choice."

He was thrown sideways as Kevin forced the ship to take a violent turn.

"Whoops," Kevin deadpanned as Mike recovered his seat. "Sorry."

"Mother of God," Mike sneered, sliding smoothly back into position. "It's no wonder Gwen dumped you. You're not a people-person."

Kevin was glowering. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Morningstar."

"Why? There's nobody else around."

"Morningstar—"

"Correct me if I'm mistaken, but—with the exception of Lovely Gwen and yourself—_I _am the only person to know that the split occurred. Why would you tell me this?"

"Because I figured you wouldn't care," Kevin answered bitterly.

"Don't blame yourself for the falling-out," Mike suggested. "It's not your fault if she made you unhappy."

Kevin growled, gripping the steering yoke in distaste. "This is why I hate teaming up with you, Morningstar! You just _love _putting salt in the wound!"

"Somebody has to, or else you'll just keep on acting like nothing's wrong," Mike said simply. "I know it's terribly brash of me to put it this way, but… you're the one who does these things to yourself."

Kevin looked ready to kill Mike. "Stop acting like you own the world."

Mike raised an elegant eyebrow. "If I had known my counseling would result in such crass accusations, I wouldn't ever have said anything in the first place."

"Yeah, well, you're just the kind of person who ought to keep their mouth shut!" shouted Kevin, having reached his limit.

"Make me," Mike answered. And that was it. Kevin set the ship to autopilot and leapt to his feet.

"You're a dead man, Morningstar!" Kevin yelled, grabbing Mike by the shoulders and slamming him into the wall. The ship shook at the impact. Mike struggled to escape, writhing in Kevin's arms as he tried to break free.

But Kevin remained strong and closed in on Mike, pinning him to the wall. For the first time that night, Mike looked like he might be frightened. The sensation went away after a split second and Mike regained control of himself.

"You won't kill me," Mike realized.

"Says _who?" _countered Kevin.

"Says _me_." Mike gave a cry of pain as Kevin slammed him into the wall again. He took a second to gather his bearings and then continued speaking. "You won't kill me because you're obsessed with your own image," Mike spat, leaning forward. "And God forbid somebody call you a _killer_."

"You're the one obsessed with your own image! We went through hell and back just so you could…" Kevin trailed off.

The oddest, most bizarre thought had just struck him out of absolutely nowhere.

Mike was _right there_. He was literally two, three inches away. Michael Morningstar was in kissing distance and it was the most compelling feeling in the whole world.

Kevin broke away suddenly, wiping his hands on his jeans and fixing his shirt.

Mike gave a dark laugh. "Have a bit of a scare there? You'd be a perfect devil if you weren't afraid of fire."

"I don't know what that means, but—"

"Go ahead," Mike interrupted. "Kiss me if you want to."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" cried Kevin defensively, breaking out into another sweat.

"You and I are far too similar for our own good," Mike toyed. "I can read you like a book. That's why Gwen didn't work for you. She had to do a song and dance just for you to _act _interested."

"I loved Gwen," Kevin argued. "You wouldn't know because you've never been in love!"

Mike wasn't even listening. "You two didn't stick because you were the one in control of everything—Gwen was ready to do anything for you on a whim, but you—" Mike chuckled—"you didn't want that, no… you wanted someone overwhelming, because you _want _to be overwhelmed."

"I—I—"

"The two of us know better than anyone else what it's like to be powerful, to be in charge. Our actions are robotic because we are in control of ourselves. And it's only when you and I feel the emotions that threaten the fabric of sanity that we feel human. And _that_, Levin, is why you're sweating and trembling and you want to kiss me so badly. Because _I _have managed to overwhelm you."

It was all true, every word of it, true. And as much as Kevin was dying to admit to it and kiss Mike—and he really, really wanted to, every bone in his body was crying for it—he had to say 'no.'

He took a dignified step backwards, trying and failing to stop shaking.

"N-now's a bad time to, uh, discuss this." He returned to the cockpit and Mike followed, somewhat downtrodden.

"Don't tell me you're _disagreeing_," Mike scoffed.

"I'm not," Kevin said quietly. "But I'd sure as hell like to."

Mike felt suddenly disappointed. He had expected Kevin—no, _Levin_—to give in so easily.

And then there was anger with himself, because in all honesty, this was more than another of Mike's evil experiments and it was obvious he had scared everyone. Even himself.

Now Mike grew still as he watched Kev—_Levin—_take control of the ship and continue the ascent up through and over a cloud.

"We've finished climbing," Kevin muttered, leaning back in his chair. "36,000 feet in the air in a hundred ton ship. You'd think we would just… _collapse_."

Mike wasn't sure how to respond to the subject change, so he just agreed. "I guess we owe the engineers," he said. "The exact aerodynamics of the plane are certainly a marvel."

Well _that _was a strange thing to say.

"We tracked the illegal tech to Shanghai," Kevin said. "That's in China."

"I _know_," Mike said, rolling his eyes.

"It's going to be awhile before we land," Kevin continued, throwing his feet up onto the dashboard. "Wake me if we're falling… and _only _if we're falling." And with that he shut his eyes, the ship still set on autopilot.

Mike tried to sleep as well but he soon found that it was useless. After keeping his eyes shut for a futile twenty minutes, he opened them again and looked at Kevin—no, _Levin—_and fell into some sort of trance.

A beam of moonlight illuminated the outline of Kevin's body, relaxed now but so often troubled and haughty.

Mike couldn't help but wonder more about this man who he shared such a profound, albeit confusing, connection with. He observed the contour of the jaw, the neck, the shoulders… finally, Kevin Levin looked slack and weary, and Mike admired it. The usual anger had drained from Kevin's—_Levin's—_veins and had been replaced with tranquility. And for once he had the composure to resemble who he really was: a tired boy-turned-man forced to contain emotions nobody his age should feel.

Kind of like Mike.

_Exactly _like Mike, actually.

Mike stood up and paced over, getting a full view of Kevin's—no, _Levin's_—oh, forget it, Kevin's—face. The lips were parted and his breath came out in short puffs. He smelled a bit like alcohol—not very surprising, considering the state of Kevin's love life at the moment. He and Gwen had fallen apart several months ago now, something that they'd been keeping to themselves for a long time. Even Tennyson still thought that the two were together.

The only other person who knew was Mike, all due to a curious late-night confidence on Kevin's part a few missions back.

Kevin had changed since he and Mike started teaming up. It was all because Mike had tried to suck all of the mana out of a football arena—during the Superbowl, no less—which of course resulted in overcharging his heart and an unfortunate collapse. After a series of medics tried to diagnose the problem, the Plumbers took Mike's unconscious body into their own hands.

They revived him and decided that this was the last straw. Mike had been given two choices: ten months in the Null Void or ten months of Plumber's work.

Mike chose Plumber's work without a second thought. He was to be given a monitor, someone to make sure that he didn't abuse his position. Kevin was quick to fill in the role, probably because he knew just how little Mike was able to be trusted.

At first, they'd argued a lot. After awhile the two started to grow closer. And just when they were on the brink of friendship, Kevin forced himself away. He was quite cold to Mike after that. Mike figured that Kevin didn't want to be his friend, which made perfect sense to him.

And somewhere in all of that Kevin and Gwen had fallen apart. The relationship had been struggling for awhile and Kevin seemed both relieved and brokenhearted after the breakup. He hadn't told anyone but Mike because he knew Mike wouldn't want to do anything to help him and he didn't want anyone's pity.

There was a rush of turbulence and Mike secured himself by grabbing Kevin's shoulders.

The reaction was immediate.

Mike had no time to realize what was happening before he found himself staring straight into the barrel of a handgun. It took Kevin a few seconds to realize what he was doing. He blinked a few times in confusion and then withdrew the gun.

"Sorry," he said instantly. "Bad habit." He stowed the pistol back into the holster that hung from his belt.

Mike had always known Kevin carried a gun but he'd never have guessed Kevin would be so quick to use it.

Maybe he had misjudged him after all.

"Do you practice?" asked Mike, finally sitting down.

"Shooting people in my sleep?" answered Kevin with a snort. "Once in awhile, yeah. But it's mostly by accident when it happens." Kevin yawned and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Why weren't you in your seat?"

"Sorry?"

"I said, why weren't you sitting?" repeated Kevin. "Were you hovering over me?"

"Something like that," Mike answered.

Kevin frowned. "Why?"

"Why do you _think_?"

Kevin's eyes fell shut in exasperation. "I want you to leave me alone. What happened before—can't we just drop that? Leave it behind us?"

"Why?" demanded Mike. "Because you were so close to getting what you wanted?"

"You don't understand limits!" Kevin insisted. "Don't you get that that's _weird_, or that it's _wrong?"_

Mike felt himself grow hot with anger. "What's so wrong about it?!" he cried, already on the verge of shouting.

"Everything was wrong about it and you should know that!" Kevin answered, his voice raised. "You have no sense of dignity, no concept of self-control! You don't understand consequences!"

"I think it's a goddamn shame that we're supposed to control ourselves like we do!" Mike argued, and now he really was yelling. "It's my belief that humans are driven by desire. But when they lust for something so often frowned upon… well, that's where they back off! That's how losers are created—the glory of the prize in the eyes of others!"

"You suggested I _kiss you_," Kevin clarified harshly.

Mike was livid. "What are you afraid of?! Something is holding you back. Is it what other people would say? Is it the pressure of committing to something? Is it _me?!" _he cried desperately.

Kevin took a deep breath, staring ahead fiercely. "This is why I'm a good pilot," he claimed. "I like machinery. It reacts consistently to any specific command. It doesn't toy with people, it doesn't play tricks. It does as it's told."

Mike's eyes widened. "Oh my God. You're afraid of getting hurt!"

"Oh, you would know!" scorned Kevin, slamming his hand on the dashboard and getting to his feet. "You define cowardice better than the dictionary!" He paced back and forth as he rambled. "You're the one carrying around the same wounds everywhere you go!" He pointed at Mike angrily. "Your scars _never _heal!"

"And neither do _yours!" _Mike cut in, getting to his feet as well. "I told you we're too similar for our own good! I _know_ you, Kevin Levin, I know you like I know myself because we've made all the same mistakes!"

Kevin threw the first punch. He did it from the side and it sent Mike reeling into the wall. Mike rushed to regain his balance, wiping blood away from his mouth in disgust.

"You want to fight?!" he shouted. "Fine, then! Wouldn't be the first time!" And with that he shot a golden beam at Kevin that sent him from one end of the ship to the other. Kevin gave an awful groan as he rammed into the wall.

He rolled into a kneeling position and absorbed the steel flooring, leaping forward with a sense of urgency. Mike sidestepped the attack and Kevin smashed his fist-turned-hammer into the floor, where it got stuck just long enough for Mike to kick Kevin in the back of the head.

Infuriated, Kevin hurried to his feet and aimed another blow at Mike. This one caught and knocked Mike over. Kevin got in a few more punches before Mike warded Kevin off with another golden beam and regained his footing.

Kevin dodged a few more golden beams, running towards Mike. Mike chortled maliciously.

"What about this makes you more of a man?!" Mike jeered.

"Do you know how much _crap _you've put me through?!" Kevin replied, throwing another punch that collided with Mike's face.

Mike stumbled backward, spitting blood onto the floor. He glared up at Kevin.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!" Mike reminded him. "You'd do well to keep those words in mind."

"I've lived my _life _off of those words!" Kevin cried.

"And you don't think I haven't?!" Mike answered.

Kevin leapt forward again, delivering one, two, three more blows to the side of Mike's face. He aimed again, but this time Mike caught Kevin's fist in his palm, stalling the punch.

The tables turned immediately as Mike took control of the fight. He had punched Kevin at least four or five times before Kevin escaped his grasp. Kevin's steel shell had melted away, exposing his regular skin. And Mike wasn't losing just yet.

He threw his entire body at Kevin and they went stumbling backwards into the wall. Kevin struggled to free himself, but it was to no avail.

"We're fools for fighting," grunted Mike as Kevin thrashed in his arms. "We don't want to kill each other…."

Mike shut up immediately as something clicked and Kevin's gun entered Mike's line of vision.

"I'm sick of being screwed around with," Kevin said, the gun shaking in his hands. "I'm sick of being at your disposal all the time, like some sort of toy."

"You're not a toy," Mike countered. "You're a man and I've never treated you as anything other than that."

"You just like seeing me _weak_," Kevin insisted, his eyes glazed over with madness.

"That may be part of it, but not all of it, but not all of it. What you want… I want it, too. I want it so much."

Kevin's eyes narrowed. "I can never trust you."

"Trust me on this," Mike pleaded, trying to keep calm as he slowly removed the gun from Kevin's hands and placed it to the side. "Please, even if it's only this one time, trust me because I mean it when I say _I want this. _I want _you_."

Kevin grew still. He stared at Mike fearfully, panting as he tried to catch his breath. His hands dropped to his side and for a second the two just stood there staring at each other.

"_But it's wrong_," Kevin finally said.

"As Plumbers," Mike theorized, "we are instructed by society to feel and act a certain way. But as men—"he leaned in perilously close— "we are bound to disagree."

And then it happened all at once, like some sort of terrible nightmare. The gap between them closed in a violent kiss. It tasted like blood and was unpleasant in every possible way. And yet it was exactly what the two had wanted.

Kevin broke away first, staring at Mike with horror as he realized what had just happened. He slid to the floor wearily, dragging Mike with him.

"I—I hate you," he said shakily, gasping for breath. "I hate you, I hate you, I wish—"

"That things were different? That you were different, that you wanted somebody else?"

Kevin closed his eyes and nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. He gulped and then his eyes flickered open, stinging with tears.

"Mike, I—I'm scared." He took a deep breath. "Scared of being hurt, just like you said. I'm afraid you'll become important, and just like that, you'll—you'll be gone."

"No I won't, I'll stay," Mike said, shaking his head. "I'll stay because you're what I want. But you—" he gripped Kevin's hand tightly—"you have to let me. You have to give me a chance because it's going to be us against the world, and…" he was losing track of himself, staring at Kevin's face for an answer. "We still don't know who we are," he said, his own eyes locking with Kevin's terrified ones. "We're still unsure of what we want and in ten minutes we'll probably be trying to kill each other again. But maybe… maybe if we stick together, we won't have to be so unsure. Because right now, right in this moment… I want you for all the right reasons. The real, honest reasons."

"But—" Kevin was clearly exhausted—"but you… you tried to kill me."

"And I'll probably try again."

"But—"

"If you think I'm not scared, you're wrong," Mike whispered. "Because I am scared. I'm scared to fucking death."

Mike squeezed Kevin's hand desperately. Kevin caught his eye and for one glorious moment there was hope—

"No."

And then it all came crashing down.

"Wh-what?" Mike felt tears rise to the surface completely against his will.

"I said no, it won't work, it's not safe. We can't put ourselves through that," Kevin said. "You've seen how we are… we can't fool ourselves into thinking that anything like love will ever go over well."

It killed Kevin to look Mike in the eyes. Mike looked crushed, betrayed, lost.

Tired.

"But… you can't mean that…"

"Mike. It will kill us." Kevin pulled his hand away gently. "The civility won't last. It's not who we are. The cuts run too deep, and… after today, I think we should stop."

"Stop what?"

"Partnering up. Seeing each other."

Now Mike was in complete anguish. "You want to cut it off? Cut everything off?!"

"I want to stop it before it starts, yeah."

Mike stared at Kevin for a few more seconds. Then he stood up abruptly and smoothed out his clothes, clearing his throat.

"Very well," he said. "You're probably right. We'd never work."

And it killed him to say it.

…

The ship landed in Shanghai shortly afterward. Rain poured down, all of the neon lights reflecting in the puddles that formed in the streets.

There was a short rumble with some black market thugs that ended swiftly and easily. The world was saved in a matter of minutes—all in a day's work, for a Plumber.

"We should head back," Kevin said after it was all over. They stood under an overhang, staring out at the rain and the neon that towered up into the sky.

But Mike only shook his head. "No," he protested. "I—I want you to leave me here."

Kevin looked alarmed. "But it's so far," he said quietly.

"Exactly," Mike said. He sighed. "This way we won't run into each other and screw everything up again."

"You don't know that," Kevin countered quietly.

"No, but… I can try."

Kevin reached out and rested a hand on Mike's shoulder, which Mike shrugged off immediately.

"Don't get attached now," he said. "It's too late for that."

Kevin's mouth fell slightly ajar. Pain shot through him as he realized that, once again, he'd ruined everything.

"Until next time," Mike finally said, offering his hand as if nothing had happened. Kevin took it and lingered there, knowing as well as Mike that there wouldn't be a 'next time.'

"We were so close," Kevin said.

"Close to what?" Mike asked.

"To finally being wanted,"

Mike smiled and shook his head. "We don't deserve that."

Kevin smiled sadly. "We're far too similar for our own good," he quoted.

Mike gave a single nod and then took a few steps back. He stared for a second and then he turned on his heel, running down the street until he'd been engulfed by the fog and rain. He never turned back.

Kevin stood in that same spot for awhile after that.

He was thinking about the autopilot switch.

Why couldn't people have an autopilot setting? Why couldn't they turn themselves over to dreams and desires without always feeling the need to hold back?

Why did people, as magnificent as they were, always have to force themselves away from that which they wanted most?

Why were there always consequences?

Mike had been right. They had been so close to finally being wanted—after being rejected by their parents, their friends, various girls… they had been so close to acceptance, to realizing what it was they needed.

Kevin found his way back to the ship. For awhile he sat in the pilot's seat, hoping that—by some whim—Mike might show up and assume the passenger's seat as had become the usual.

Kevin fell asleep like that, waiting for Mike to return. When he awoke, it was dawn.

Mike hadn't returned.

With a great deal of regret, Kevin started up the engines and took off into the sky. Mike was gone and he felt like being sick because of it. But Mike's decision had been made in order to keep Kevin safe, safe from the monster that Mike knew himself to be.

And as he flew towards the rising sun, Kevin realized one thing.

He would never take anybody for granted again.

**Thanks for reading! I know "Levinstar" is a strange pairing but I've had this story in my head for awhile. Please leave a review and tell me what you think**.


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